Her suggestion came from Marcel Desaulniers’ cookie cookbook. I do not know who Marcel Desaulnier is but apparently he makes really good cookies. Katy wrote: “I am in love with both of these [recipes].” (She posted two recipes, one for bars one for cookeis). “I want to share them with the world. Your readers should try them out. So should you. After you do, would you please bring some over? Thank you.”

Easy now, Katy. Let’s not put the cart before the horse.

The recipe begins, as so many do, with sifting. Specifically, the sifting of flour, baking soda and salt:

I find the sifting process enjoyable. As I sift, I shift my hips and picture myself on a tropical aisle with coconuts on my breasts and flowers on my ears. And then I snap out of it and notice that I am done.

The next part requires my favorite kitchen tool: an electric freestanding mixer.

First you open some butter:

And you take a picture of it. Chop it up and put it into the bowl.

Then hold Dark Brown Sugar up for the camera:

And dump 2 cups in with the butter. This ended up using the whole box! That’s because I packed the sugar. You can take this information with you, then: one box of brown sugar contains two cups, packed.

I put it in the bowl with the butter:

After whipping for a bit, I added eggs:

Clay Aiken and I both find it offensive when people use the word “retarded” gratuitously, but Lauren buys retarded eggs. She buys genetically modified or vitamin enriched eggs and I’m always like: “No! No! No! Buy natural! Buy organic!” In her defense, though, the eggs in the fridge–despite being Omega Enhanced–were from free range chickens. Aside from that, they were from Kroger.

Anyway, Katy’s recipe calls for dark rum. We didn’t have dark rum. But earlier in the day Katy and I had this exchange on the phone:

Katy: And don’t forget the liquor, that’s an important part.

Me: Oh, but I don’t think I have dark rum.

Katy: That’s ok. Sometimes I use a liqueur…

Me: You do?

Katy: Yes.

Me: Wow.

Katy: I know.

Me: What kind?

Katy: Well I have this really good caramel liqueur…

Me: I don’t have that.

Katy: Oh.

Me: Oh, but we have White Chocoalte Godiva liqueur left over from a party.

Katy: Perfect! I bet that will be yummy!

Taking her advice, then, I went with the Godiva:

“That’s LADY Godiva to you, short pants.”

Sorry, Lady.

Anyway, I added 2 Tbs of that, then 1 tsp of vanilla:

Mix it all up good:

And then you add, very slowly, the sifted flour et al:

There is a lot of flour in this recipe: 4 cups. And the yield is quite great: the recipe says it makes 2 dozen cookies, but my batter made 3 dozen. Far too many cookies if you ask me! So what I’m trying to say is that if you’re cooking for a small audience you might want to half everything.

Ok.

So here’s the finished dough pre-chips:

It actually tasted pretty good. The liqueur gave it an interesting flavor.

Anyway, ok, two rounded Tablespoons for each cookie on two cookie sheets that I prepared with (exhibit A) Silpat:

And exhibit B, Parchment Paper:

They went in a 300 degree oven for 15 minutes; I rotated the sheets; 10 minutes more. What’s that haunting aroma? Why is it: the best chocolate chip cookie ever?

Lauren thought so. Look:

Those are the finished cookies.

Here’s a cookie up close:

And after biting into it:

This cookie IS delicious, it’s true. If you like your cookies moundy and cakey and rich and thick, this is the cookie for you.

I’m looking for an elusive cookie I had in New York once. I tried to describe it to Lauren:

“I was at Lisa’s office in New York and I went down to the concourse and there was this bakery with these large dry looking cookies that I settled on because I was hungry. Well, I got it and I bit into it and it was perfect. It was flat and crispy on the outside and the inside was chewy.”

Ah yes, the chocolate chip cookies. When I was in college, I worked as a hostess in Marcel Desaulnier’s restaurant in Virginia. (Which by the way is a pretty fancy place for Southern Virginia, you know, in the sense that you didn’t get cornbread with your meal). I know these cookies well as the staff got to enjoy all the cookies which were broken or otherwise unsuitable for sale to the cheesy tourists with strollers and colonial re-enacters who populate Colonial Williamsburg.

It was my job to retrieve the cookies from the cookie jar and I often man-handled the jar hoping to break some of the weaker cookies at the bottom.

http://www.joannou.net brian w

Have you ever tried baking with a “fancy” butter like Plugra? I picked some up one night when making cookies and the difference was kind of amazing. It wasn’t really even that much more expensive (maybe 50 cents a pound more), but it really made ‘em taste like a million bucks.

http://angusindex.blogspot.com emily

Hmmm…I might have to try that hula-dance sifting method… :P If I ever sifted, which I don’t — in “The Cake Bible,” Rosy Levy Beranbaum, baking goddess of the universe, reveals that she wrote her master’s thesis on whether sifting made any difference in most recipes, and concluded it doesn’t. I just sprinkle everything around the bowl and mix it up, never have a problem. Of course, if you make sifting fun…

asd

fuck those look good

http://vidiot.typepad.com Vidiot

“Too many cookies”? I didn’t believe the phrase exists in the English language.

And yes, if you’re ever passing by (or even remotely near — this is worth a substantial detour) Williamsburg, VA, go to Marcel Desaulniers’ restaurant, The Trellis. A-fricking-mazing.

True story: When I was in high school, my stepfather was leaving on a business trip the same evening my mother was returning from one. My parents decided to meet at the Trellis for dinner. No fool I, I took my homework in the car with me and rode 2 1/2 hours up to Williamsburg with my stepfather, joined them for dinner, and rode back with my mother.